


Holiday Spirit

by bench



Category: Homestuck
Genre: Bulges and Nooks, Established Relationship, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-01
Updated: 2016-01-01
Packaged: 2018-05-10 21:12:54
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,802
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5601181
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bench/pseuds/bench
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>What you really need to do is prove to him that Christmas is not only different from 12th Perigree's Eve, but that it is actually much, much better.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Holiday Spirit

**Author's Note:**

  * For [secondhandact](https://archiveofourown.org/users/secondhandact/gifts).



"John, what are you doing?" Karkat says from somewhere behind and below you.

 

"Oh good, you're up!" you say, turning around so you can stick your head out the trapdoor to the attic. "Here, help me with these boxes."

 

"Boxes for- oof, what in the Empress's name is in this, rocks?"

 

"No, I'm pretty sure that one is full of books. Just put it down wherever and come get the next one. We can sort it out later."

 

"Why are we-" he starts.

 

"Here, this one is a lot lighter," you interrupt, passing the next box down. If you start answering questions it will be a long, long time before you can get anything done. Karkat is a terrible multitasker.

 

"Do you want me to put this with the other one?" he asks, apparently accepting that a conversation about the boxes isn't going to happen until they are all moved.

 

"Wherever. Eventually we are going to have to move them all down stairs so the closer you put them to the stairs the better I guess."

 

Karkat says "Ugh" and stomps off with the box while you move the next one into position.

 

You find half a dozen more boxes labeled "Christmas" up in the attic, and you somehow manage to keep Karkat on task for as long as it takes you to move them down into the house, then further down into the living room.

 

"Ok," you say, brushing dust off the front of your pajama shirt, then wrapping an arm around him so you can smooch his cheek. "Let's get some breakfast and I'll tell you about the wonders of Christmas."

 

"The wonders of what?" Karkat asks, kissing you back before shoving you away and stomping towards the kitchen. "We just spent like three days cooking for the last thing you said that about. I don't think I am emotionally or spiritually prepared for another undertaking of such magnitude," he concludes rummaging through the fridge.

 

"I already took the orange juice out, it's on the counter," you say, willing the toaster to toast your bagel faster.

 

"Ok," he says a moment later, slamming glass of juice and bowl of weird troll cereal onto the counter and settling onto his usual stool at the breakfast bar. "The wonders of what?"

 

"Christmas," you reply, scraping cream cheese onto your bagel. "It’s a really important holiday here with decorating and food and presents."

 

"We just _had_ a huge food holiday," he protests.

 

"The food part doesn't come for like a month," you placate. "This is just when we decorate. And make cookies."

 

"So all that stuff we just got out of the attic was…"

 

"Decorations, yes."

 

He ponders this for a moment. "So we're going to be decorating the house all day, aren't we."

 

"Well," you hedge. " _I_ am going to be decorating the house all day. You don't have to help if you don't want to."

 

He sighs. "Put your barkbeast eyes away before your face gets stuck that way. I'll help. It sounds like it's pretty much the same as 12th Perigree's Eve anyway because all your greatest holidays and celebrations are adopted directly from my culture with only passing lip service to originality. And I am _excellent_ at 12th Perigree's Eve."

 

"Ok, I don't know anything about 12th Perigree's Eve, but I am pretty sure that, if it is anything like the other Alternian holidays you have told me about, they are nothing alike."

 

"Does it have decorating?" he asks, voice faux-reasonable.

 

"Yes I just told you-"

 

"Does it involve your lusus bringing a behemoth leaving to do the decorating on?"

 

"Bringing… what??" you squawk, but he talks over your confusion.

 

"Does it involve the exchanging of tokens with those you consider unlikely to kill you on sight?"

 

"See, all troll holidays are horrible and I am offended that you would imply that it is the same as Christmas so-"

 

"Same thing, John! Same fucking thing!" He stands and drops his dishes into the sink like dropping a mic, then stocks out of the kitchen. This is why he is only allowed to use plastic dishes.

 

As you finish your bagel you ponder all the ways that Karkat is wrong. You don't know what a behemoth is because trolls are weird and their animals are weirder, but you definitely don't want any leavings in the house. What you really need to do is prove to him that Christmas is not only different from 12th Perigree's Eve, but that it is actually much, much better.

 

While Karkat is in the shower you replace all the pictures sitting on the mantle with snow globes and any knickknacks with snowmen or reindeer or Santas. As he is getting dressed you artfully scatter _'Twas the Night Before Christmas, The Polar Express,_ and similar across the house. When he emerges into the living room, he finds you attempting to untangle what must be miles of Christmas lights that have gone full gorgon knot.

 

"The _hell_ is this," he demands.

 

"This is us going to the car to get a tree!" you chirp, dropping the lights and moving to heard him towards the door.

 

"John," he protests, "the yard is full of trees. What do we need another tree for?"

 

"Not that kind of tree," you say, tossing his coat at him.

 

"So what kind of tree is it then?" he asks as he climbs into the passenger seat of your car.

 

"The Christmas kind."

 

"What do trees have to go with 12th Perigee's Eve?"

 

" _Everything_." you say with feeling.

 

Out of the corner of your eye you can see him frowning at you. "This is a _thing,_ isn't it?"

 

"A thing?"

 

"There are some things that you get your teeth into like a barkbeast with a favorite toy."

 

"That is the second time you have compared me to a dog today," you grouse.

 

"-And once you go full barkbeast," he continues as if you haven't spoken, "there is no way to make you just fucking stop until you wear yourself out. Again, like a barkbeast."

 

"I have no idea what you're taking about," you pout.

 

"Please continue enjoying your delusions. I'll just let you do your thing and make sure you remember to eat snacks. Rose always harps on the importance of snacks."

 

As much as you are annoyed about the idea of being compared to a stubborn dog, you are forced to conclude that it is to your advantage when Karkat is completely agreeable for the rest of the trip. After spending the remainder of the trip to the tree farm on his phone, he even starts suggesting tree characteristics and asking about if you have Christmas wrapping paper or if you are going to have to go to the store. Of course you have Christmas wrapping paper. Yeesh.

 

The rest of the day is spent decorating the tree, hanging the lights all over the exterior of the house, and baking every Christmas cookie you can remember your dad ever baking along with a few new ones that Jane sent you on Pinterest.

 

Karkat sort of grins and bears it while you decorate and bake everything just so. You can still read skepticism in every line of his body, paired with mumbles about how really this isn't _that_ different. You are pretty sure he has a really bad case of rose colored glasses, because everything he has ever told you about Alternian holidays is completely awful. If they decorate it is probably with the blood of slain enemies and if they exchange gifts they are probably maggoty skulls. If you can't convince Karkat that cookies are better than maggoty skulls then he is really hopeless. Unfortunately a day of hectic decorating doesn't provide the best platform to show off the superiority of Christmas.

 

At dinner, you send him off to pick up takeout, too tired with the day's activity to do any cooking. He doesn't bother to conceal his relief to be getting out of the madness you have made of the house.

 

The instant his car pulls out of the driveway, you spring into motion. You light the fire already built in the fire place, plug in the lights on the house and the tree, put on your favorite Christmas music, dim the lights in the living room, set out some cookies on the coffee table. To the sound of Karkat pulling into the driveway, you step back to survey your work. The living room could almost be clipped out of a home improvement catalog if it weren't for the special, Egbert touches. You don't care what anyone else says, Ghost Busters ornaments are totally awesome.

 

"Alright John, I have to admit, the lights outside look pretty fucking- oh wow." You turn to see him frozen in the doorway between the living room and the entryway.

 

"Like what you see," you tease as you walk over to him and take the sack of food out of his hands.

 

"It's… really pretty," he replies, leaning into you.

 

"Come on." You lace your fingers with his and pull him into the living room. Fussily you seat him on the couch, put a cookie in his hand, and cuddle up next to him. Across from you is the lit up, glittering tree framed in the bay window. Outside a light rain has started falling and if you squint you can almost imagine it's snow. In the background Frank Sinatra croons about how next year all your troubles will be out of sight. You rest your head against Karkat's shoulder. He takes a bite of his cookie.

 

"Ok," he murmurs. "You're right. It's different."

 

"Yeah?" you ask, shifting so you can smoosh your cheek against his.

 

"Yeah. It's… it's just different. It's. Prettier. Nicer."

 

"Nothing was nice on Alternia."

 

He shrugs, jostling you. "Maybe. I remember good things. But nothing like this."

 

"Well," you say, pulling him tight against you. "That's the magic of Christmas."

 

"Thanks for showing me all your weird nice human things," he says, tuning to face you and slipping one hand to pull at the back of your neck. "Really," and he presses his lips to yours. It's a little awkward just like always, like he doesn't remember how he did it last time and needs to re-learn. You don't mind teaching him each time. You think maybe it's because he forgets that he has to kiss a human. His mouth is so hot and his teeth are too sharp and he tastes just a little off. But you love all of it. You cradle his face in your palms to slow him down, shifting his frantic heat into a gentle give and take. No need to rush, you have all night and then forever after that. You pull away just enough to get him chasing after you, then move back in, deepening the kiss until he has turned all the way around to sit sideways on the couch half in your lap.

 

Once he has calmed down and remembered how all this works you let your hands slide away to cup his neck. Your other hand wraps around his waist to pull him closer like maybe you can pull him straight out of his clothes. When that doesn't work you slide a hand up the back of his hoodie so you can feel him that way. He is always just a shade hotter than a human would be, your own personal space heater. It makes him seem more alive than other people, more real. Karkat gasps into your mouth as you lightly drag your nails down his back.

 

"Fuck," he whispers, then pulls away from you. This time it is your turn to try to follow, but he holds you back with a hand to the center of your chest. He doesn't need to take such drastic measures though. As soon as you see that he is making moves to take off his hoodie you are in full support. Unfortunately, your help might not be altogether helpful. You start to help him pull it up, but you are immediately distracted by his grubscars, which you can't help but press your thumbs into. Karkat makes that wavery noise he always makes when he is punched in the gut by desire and his hands stutter away from the hem of his hoodie to grip at your shoulders. You suppress a giggle and press harder.

 

"John, fuck, fuck," he breathes, trying to grind against your leg but the angle is terrible. This time you fail to suppress your giggle. Karkat growls, a sound that never fails to go straight to your dick. And he wonders why you antagonize him so much in bed.

 

In a feat of casual strength that only increases the intensity of the party in your pants, Karkat pushes you so that you fall on your back onto the couch. "Fuck you, John," he hisses, stripping off shirt and hoodie now that you are out of range. You make grabby hand at him and he rolls his eyes.

 

There is a brief interlude while the two of you rearrange so that you are sprawled across the couch with Karkat sitting on your hips. He is frowning down from on high like he isn't sure what he wants to do with you. Frank Sinatra hopes that your days be merry and bright. The living room is pretty dark with only the lights on the tree, but you are feeling pretty much as merry as you could be. You are pretty sure there is a shit eating grin on your face, but you can't help yourself. Couldn't possibly be any more merry.

 

"What's so funny?" Karkat demands.

 

"Long story," you say, then buck your hips so that he half falls on top of you, only stopping from collapsing with a hand on your chest. It serve to put him well in range of your hands, and you pull him closer until you can press your lips against his again.

 

Karkat more or less melts against you, climbing upwards until the angle is right for him to suck on your bottom lip and nip at your tongue. His path up your body just so happens, by pure coincidence you are sure, to drag his hips across your dick. You make a noise and you can feel Karkat grinning against your lips. This time it's your turn to growl "fuck you" and you grab his hips and pull him down to grind against you again. "Don't be a tease."

 

"Take off your pants," he gasps.

 

There is a flurry of motion as you work together to get at least undressed enough that you can bump uglies. This results in your pants pushed down around your knees and karkat's tangled around one ankle. You are both feeling a bit too needy to bother improving the situation.

 

As soon as Karkat had his pants out of the way his bulge worked its way free.

 

"Oh fuck, oh fuck," you gasped as it wrapped itself around your dick. Then it squeezed and your words became a bit more inarticulate.

 

Karkat has never been able to explain just how much control he has over his bulge. Well, it's more that you disagree about how much he can control it. He is sure it is involuntary, but if that's true how does he know how to push your buttons just so every time? The tip of his bulge flicks against the head of your dick and your words stop trying altogether.

 

Karkat is on top of you, one hand clinging to your hip and the other tugging at your hair. You're too tall for him to get his bulge around you and to kiss you at the same time when he is on top, but he makes up for it by nibbling and then kissing your neck in turn.

 

You gasp and twist and dig your fingers into his grubscars and his horn beds and his bulge twists and squeezes until you can feel yourself getting close. You gasp out some sort of warning, but he doesn't stop until you cry out and come.

 

As soon as you are able to gather your senses, you sit upright, toppling Karkat into your lap. You manage to tangle one hand with his bulge and slip a finger into his nook, then it is only the work of a few moments until he followed you with a shout. Then you both collapse back onto the couch.

 

"So," you say, still breathing hard. "Christmas."

 

"Yeah?" he gasps.

 

"Better than 12th whatever?"

 

He sighs.

 

"Come on, did you ever get laid on 12th thing?" you cajole.

 

"Fine" he says rolling his eyes. "Christmas wins this round."

 

You cheer and pull your boyfriend into a sloppy kiss.


End file.
